Crazy For You…

I met Abe online. He was an attorney.

He was interested in meeting for sushi for our first date, which was to be held on a Tuesday.

The date was fine. As an attorney, there was an air of formality that wafted through the air. I don’t remember much about the date except that I couldn’t have cared less if we’d gone out again.

However, I probably would have gone out with him again. Had he asked.

(This is a lovely example of the fact that I always give guys more chances than are warranted. I would have given him another chance to connect with me. That part is true.)

That second date never had a chance to come to fruition. Sunday morning, I woke to a blinking light. I had a voicemail.


You’re a wonderful girl. Clearly you are.  But…

I don’t think we should go out again because… well, I’M CRAZY.

You’re probably thinking – he’s not crazy. I know so-and-so who did such-and-such. So, how could he be crazy. 

But, I AM.

I drink too much. I gamble too much. I talk too much. I’m just crazy. And, well, I think you’re a great girl. Truly, you are. But don’t think we should go on a second date because I’m crazy.

I wish you the best of luck. I love you. Goodbye.

So that’s the world I live in. Seemingly normal date = much craziness.

I run into Abe from time to time.

Once, a friend of mine asked me if I knew Abe because someone wanted to fix them up on a blind date. I told her NO WAY and that he was crazy. The next thing, I saw him across the way. Abe was at the counter of the bar where we were sitting. I told him that I’d just blocked his chance at romance and asked if I was wrong and if he really didn’t think that he was crazy but was just not interested in me and had an odd way of letting me know.

He said it was okay – he was and is crazy.

Welcome to my world…



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